


Crossing Lines

by Ttime42



Category: NCIS
Genre: Consensual, Corporal Punishment, Gen, Humor, Other, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Spanking, Swearing, belt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-30
Updated: 2013-01-30
Packaged: 2017-11-27 11:48:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/661665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ttime42/pseuds/Ttime42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony & Tim have too much fun on a slow day at work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crossing Lines

**Author's Note:**

> Set sometime in season 3-4. No spoilers.

            Gibbs’ focus on his paperwork was momentarily interrupted as he watched Tony sneak up behind McGee at his desk, reach over the partition and, for what seemed to be no apparent reason, flick him on the head. This caused McGee to spill the coffee he had in his hand onto his keyboard, producing a loud laugh from Tony.

            “Watch it, McButterfingers. Don’t ya know you’re not supposed to mix keyboards and coffee?”

            Gibbs cleared his throat, prompting a glance from his two agents. Gibbs gave Tony The Stare over the tops of his glasses and Tony crept back to his desk. Things were quiet for the next hour or so.

            _Snick- plat._

_Snick-plat._

            Gibbs shifted his eyes up to Tony. He was watching McGee with one eyebrow raised and a little grin playing at his lips. McGee’s chair was swiveled towards Tony and Gibbs saw the open bag of rubber bands on Tim’s desk, as well as the pile littering the floor beside Tony’s wastebasket and the one in his gelled hair. McGee shot off another one and it _snick-plat-_ ed off of Tony’s monitor.

            “McGee.” Gibbs said.

            “Sorry, boss.”

            Had they continued their stream of minor, harmless annoyances, Gibbs wouldn’t have cared. After all, it was a slow day. And it was on occasion amusing just to watch them.

            He got back from a coffee run around 1230 and exited the elevator, his eyes immediately drawn to the small crowd gathered in the bullpen. He caught a vague glimpse of Tim, covered in some sort of multi-colored goo, and growled in his throat.

            “Hey!” He barked. The crowd dispersed instantly, leaving the two reasons for the gathering standing in front of their desks. Tim was coated in a layer of what appeared to be silly string. He was aiming a red water pistol at Tony, who was somehow covered in confetti. His blue button-up shirt was darkened with water in places. Ziva was nowhere to be seen.

            Gibbs was about to open his mouth to chew them out for screwing around so much, when up on the second floor the door to MTAC opened and Director Shepard walked out, speaking with SecNav. Gibbs stiffened as the pair headed for the stairs. Jen laughed at something her boss said and looked towards the bullpen. The smile fell off her lips and she did a double take. Confusion spread over her face at the sight of the two multicolored agents. That confusion turned to annoyance and she stared steadily at Gibbs, one thin brow arching toward the skylight, giving him the nonverbal command to get them out of sight and deal with them.

            “Well, Director Shepard,” SecNav said from beside her as they watched Gibbs point firmly towards the conference rooms and the two agents—DiNozzo and McGee was it?—scurry to follow orders. “Is that something I should pretend I didn’t see?” he asked.

            “Mm,” she said, gracing him with a demure smile, “if you’d be so kind.”

            _Jethro,_ she thought darkly behind her smile, _if you don’t handle them, I_ will.

 

* * *

 

 

            “Boss, I can explain—.” Tony began.

            “It was his fault—.”

            “Hey, you started it—.”

            “I started nothing—.”

            Gibbs shut the conference room door and locked it, watching his bickering agents.

            “You started it when you made me spill my coffee!”

            “No way—that was for yesterday. You repeated what I told you about my date to Ziva and Abby!” Tony hissed. A few pieces of pink confetti drifted passively from his shoulder to the floor.

            “I didn’t know you were there!”

            Tony was about to yell something back, but paused and turned to Gibbs. He was leaning back against the closed door, watching them argue.    

            “Don’t let me interrupt.” He told them coolly. “Just let me know when you’re done so I can take my belt to your asses.”

            The expected explosion of arguing didn’t come. Tim and Tony gave exchanged a nervous glance and stood quietly, waiting for Gibbs to continue. Gibbs waited in silence for a full minute before speaking.

            “What happened, Tony?”

“After you left for coffee, Abby called Ziva down to her lab. Five minutes later I felt a jet of ice water in my ear!” He yelled to Tim.

            “Oh, that is _so_ not how it happened! You were shooting binder clips at me! You almost hit Mrs. Edelson from HR!”

            “That was for the rubber bands!”

            “Which was for the flick!” Tim reached over and flicked Tony’s head and the other agent smacked McGee’s hand away, getting a wad of violet silly string stuck to his palm.

            “Hey!” Gibbs barked. Tim and Tony fell still and silent. “ _Enough_. I don’t care who started it, why it was started—you’re both to blame! You’re acting like a pair of third graders. This behavior would be unacceptable on any day of the week, but with SecNav here?” He let the question sink into their thick heads and was answered with two mumbled agreements.

            “I’m gonna give you an option.” Gibbs said, glancing between them. “Either you take a hiding from my belt, or you both ride your desks for the next two weeks.”

            “Aw, boss, come on, not the belt.” Tony muttered.

            “The belt, DiNozzo.”

Tony let out a little chuff of exasperation. “Desk duty? _Two weeks_? I’ll go nuts!”

            “That’s why you’re gettin’ the choice. What’s it gonna be? Tim?”

            Tim glanced at Tony. At this moment, the prospect of desk duty didn’t sound so awful compared to taking a whipping from Gibbs. It would be tough to be stuck sitting there all day though, every day, watching the rest of his team ‘grab their gear’ and take off after the dirtbags. Though, if he chose desk duty, everyone who saw him sitting there while the team took off would know he was being punished, and the thought of having to explain to Abby and Ziva and Ducky and Palmer why he was hanging around the office while everyone else was out on a case was certainly not an attractive prospect.

            Tony made an impatient noise and rubbed fingers through his damp hair. “Desk duty sucks, boss.”

            “Ya think, Tony?”

            “Do you really have to do this?”

            “Quit whining and pick one, both of you,” Gibbs said in a clipped tone, “or a third option will be chosen for you that I promise will be far less pleasant than either of these.”

            Tim wasted no time.

            “The belt.” He blurted.

            “Fine. Tony?”

            The senior agent glanced at Tim, seemingly surprised at his choice.

            “Me too, boss.” He sighed. No way was he going to choose the dull, less painful option—not if his probie was taking the spanking. What kind of senior agent would that make him?

            “Glad we got that settled.” Gibbs growled. “Over the table, both of you.”

            Tim peered up at the man, startled. “Together?”

            “Problem, McGee?”

            “Uh, no, it’s just, you’ve—in the past you’ve only disciplined us…separately.”

            “Well, seeing as you two knuckleheads thought it would be fun to act like a pair of school-age delinquents together, figured I’d save time and have you both face the consequences together too. Though if either one of you keeps arguing with me,” his voice hardened, “I have no problem whippin' you longer than—.”

            Both agents threw themselves over the table and to hell with embarrassment and bravado.

            “Really, probie?” Tony said with a smile he didn’t feel, “woulda thought for sure you’d pick the desk.”

            “No way.” Tim said, looking over at him with a slightly more believable expression of smugness. “Desk duty sucks.”

            Tony stared at him a moment through narrowed eyes, then pulled a silly face. The bark of laughter escaped before Tim could stop it.

            “Something funny about this, McGee?” Gibbs asked from behind.

            “No, boss.” Tim sobered and took a breath, preparing himself. Now that he’d chosen the belting, he was determined to be stoic about it. Gibbs’ spankings hurt like hell. And he’d expect nothing less from the former marine.

            “Tony, why are you here?” Gibbs asked. Tim heard the _ting_ of the metal belt buckle and the accompanying _hiss._ He took a deep, shuddery breath.

            “You brought us here, boss—eep!” Tony jumped at the quick, but light, smack that landed on his butt.

            “You two still think this is funny?” Gibbs came around the other side of the table and stood there with his arms crossed, the brown leather belt folded menacingly in his hand. “How ‘bout I do this at your desks? In front of the office? Would that still be funny to you?”

            “No boss.” They both answered.

            “Tony, answer my question. Why are you here?”

            “I’m here” Tony began mechanically, “because I was acting like an idiot with McGee and wasting time that I could have been spending working.” Tony said. “I started it boss.” He admitted grudgingly. “I flicked him in the head.”

            “Good. McGee?”

            “I also acted like an idiot—and a third grader—with Tony. I didn’t let the situation drop when I should have.”

            “Thank you.” Gibbs went back around the table and smiled a little, pleased at their honesty and admittance that they had both been at fault…and the fact that they each looked like a circus sideshow gone wrong. He adjusted his grip on the belt, making sure he had firm hold of the buckle.

            “Ready?” He asked.

            Two worried voices answered, “Yes boss.”

            Gibbs let the first lick _crack_ across McGee’s bottom. He gasped as the pain flooded across his ass.

            _Crack!_

            “Yowch!” Tony yelped.

            _Crack!_

McGee hung his head, clenching his teeth as the second burst of fire blazed over both cheeks.

            _Crack!_

“Boss, not so hard—!” Tony yelled.

            Gibbs alternated smoothly between the two men, landing equally hard strokes on each of their well-presented backsides.

            _Crack!_

            McGee buried his face in one elbow, ignoring the squish of silly string on his forehead, riding out the building pain. His determination to take this stoically was draining fast, and now he just wanted to get through it without raising too much of a fuss. He winced when the next _crack!_ landed on Tony’ butt, causing the man to cry out.

            Tim could try to convince himself that this wasn’t so bad, and if he was alone that would be easier, but hearing his normally gregarious and cheerful partner whimpering into the table as he also got whipped made the whole punishment even more horrible.

 _Crack!_ McGee hissed and felt his body shift to the side, instinctively trying to get away from the pain. He grimly scooted back into place before Gibbs made him.

            Tim had never been punished actually _with_ anyone before, either. He’d never really been punished much at all. Enduring Gibbs’ spanking with his partner right beside him taking the same thing made the punishment both more intense, but oddly, also slightly more comforting. Some part of his brain registered that he and Tony would no doubt go out for drinks or food after this. Their pride would demand that they purposely sit on the thinly padded chairs, laughing and talking about anything that wasn’t this moment. Until then, though—

            “Ow!” Tim hollered into his arm.

            “Fuck—boss!” Tony cried.

            “Ow!” Tim yelled again. His throat thickened with the threat of tears. Tony’s breath hitched quietly beside him and on the next hard _crack!_ McGee let a choked sob escape into his sleeve. Definitely lost the battle with stoicism.

             Finally, no more _cracks!_ came, and Tim and Tony both lay across the table, their heavy, hitching breathing drowning out the re-clasping of the belt. Gibbs stepped between them and rested a hand on each of their heads.

            “Jeez…boss.” Tony panted.

            “Goofing with each other now and then is fine,” Gibbs said in a soothing voice, “but when it interferes with your work and distracts the other people in the office, that’s not fine. And it’s definitely not fine when Jen is wandering around the building with the damn SecNav.” Gibbs rested his hands a moment more on their heads before stepping back.

            “Yes, b-boss.” McGee mumbled.

            Tony’s voice was thick. “Understood.”

            “Up, both of you.”

            Tim and Tony struggled to their feet, wincing. They each turned around to face their boss, heads hanging and shoulders shuddering occasionally with hiccups.

            “I don’t want to do this again. You two know where the line is. You know when you’re about to cross it. Think next time. Okay?”

            Two tear-stained faces tilted up and looked him in the eye. “Yes, boss.” They both said.

            “Good. Both of you go change into something clean and go see if Abby needs any help.” He looked at his watch. “Be back up here by 1400.”

            Tim and Tony both darted from the conference room as fast as their sore butts would allow, eager for an hour’s comfort with the goth lab rat. Gibbs smirked to himself as they left.

            “That’s my boys.”

* * *

            “McGee.” Tony said. The elevator was lurching upwards, carrying them to Abby’s lab. He felt much, much better wearing a dry shirt and his comfortable gym sweatpants, despite the heat pulsing off his ass.

            “Yeah?” Tim had taken a quick shower to get all the ‘string out of his hair, and it was still damp. He too was in dry, mostly-clean gym clothes, trying to ignore his throbbing behind.

            “You okay?”

            “Sure.” McGee looked quickly back at the silver doors. “Doesn’t even really hurt anymore.” He lied.

            “Psh. It didn’t hurt when he was whippin’ us.” Tony blustered. “I think he’s losing his touch.”

            “For sure.” Tim agreed quickly. “Didn’t even take our pants down.”

            “I know, right? Didn’t hurt.”

            “Not a bit.”

            “Does Abby or Ziva know?” Tony asked when the doors _dinged_ and opened. Familiar techy rock music drifted from the lab.

            “Don’t think so.” Tim murmured.

            “Let’s keep it that way.”

End.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please comment/leave kudos :)


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